


Growing Up Alone (Gavin & Elijah as Brothers)

by e_n_silvermane



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, filling in history as i imagine it, pieces of their timeline, possibly triggering so stay safe y'all, suicide attempt in chapter 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-08 06:06:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17975879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e_n_silvermane/pseuds/e_n_silvermane
Summary: Thinking back to when he was growing up and how he was raised, Gavin realizes that maybe there's a reason for his hatred.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly this is just me screwing around with character development and writing a convincing backstory, so I'd love it SO much if you could provide me with some feedback!! Hope you enjoy reading about Gavin and Elijah's early days. :)  
> Oh, and one more thing before you read: in this first chapter, Gavin and Elijah are about 6 years old. Just keep that in mind!

One  
🟔

There were not many things that Christina Auren-Kamski wanted out of life. One of them was a loyal husband. Another was a steady job. When she turned thirty-one, she decided that she would add a child to that list, which was (arguably) one of the worst ideas she’d ever had. Anyone in her family, including the children she had, could tell you that.  
It was mostly because she wanted one kid, and accidentally had two due to something called superfetation—but no matter, that will be explained in time. With these children came the fact that she simply just wasn’t ready to be a mom. In all the time she spent being pregnant, she never went to one parenting class, picked up one parenting book, or read one parenting blog post. And when her babies came, well, she didn’t quite know what to do with them. She supposed she could treat them as any other child she had met in passing, which on the whole wasn’t terrible, except…  
Well, what do you do with a baby? You can’t exactly have a conversation with it.  
At this point, she had been divorced, and was a year or so into her experience as a mother. Her first baby, Elijah, was the preferred one, although she’d never say it aloud. It was just that, well, he didn’t really cry unless he was really hungry, which was a warning to her that she should feed them both immediately. Christina, sadly, wasn’t the best at keeping a time table open for that sort of thing, but she did know that they should eat at least three times a day. And that they should eat mostly mashed up things like peas or bananas, and drink either her milk or whole milk. Elijah was calm and quiet, a sweet infant, really. She could stare into those cute little blue eyes forever.  
Gavin, however.  
Oh boy.  
Gavin was the polar opposite of Elijah. He cried at everything, especially in the odd hours of the morning, when Christina was trying to sleep. She tried hugging him, bouncing him gently, all the things she’d seen other mothers do. Nothing worked. Whether it was because she didn’t have an innate maternal sense of what the baby was upset about, or whether it was because Gavin just did not like her, the tears never ceased with this one. Eventually she gave up and just let him cry it out, over and over and over again. Sometime—she wasn’t quite sure when, exactly—she figured out that if she left Gavin with Elijah, he wouldn’t make a sound for the entire night. And that was a blessing.  
Years came to pass, and to Christina, nothing seemed to change. Her children were about the same, Gavin being more temperamental, Elijah being more curious and quiet. She didn’t quite struggle to take care of them, but it was an utter relief to finally have them in school, even if her younger son kept getting into fights. Elijah knew his way around a first-aid kit and would help his brother open bandaids, which was good enough for her.  
The one thing she didn’t like was seeing all the mothers of her boys’ classmates. They’d show up for conferences and things like that and make worried eyes at her, whispering to each other. Christina was never too sure what they were talking about, but she knew it was probably nothing good because whenever she came over to talk, they just asked how her kids were doing. What mother would want to talk about that?  
And yet it was all they could talk about. A fascinating, and yet so, so boring thing.  
As Gavin and Elijah grew up, it became more and more apparent to them that their mother Christina was not someone to be wholly depended on.  
The first real memory Gavin had of his mother’s not-so-secret neglect issue was when he was turning six years old.

Gavin was convinced his sixth birthday was going to be the best. His mom had given in to his constant chattering and pleading and let him invite friends over for a small party, he was absolutely positive this was the year he would get more than one present. After all, Mom had been hinting at it, hadn’t she? She stopped complaining about the bills and even bought Greek yogurt. That’s right, Greek yogurt! The expensive-yet-delicious stuff! Money must not have been as tight, so it was okay to hope for a good birthday with good presents and good friends right?  
As it turned out, he was wrong.  
“Sorry, Gav, I can’t come.”  
“Me neither. My mom says I don’t have time, but I don’t know what she’s talking about.”  
“I can’t, either. I’m really sorry.”  
“Why not?” Gavin asked his friends, who were suddenly all shy, avoiding eye contact and rocking back onto their heels.  
“Well…” One of them, Rocky, his family was going on vacation. Jimmy’s mom didn’t like Gavin’s mom, although it wasn’t apparent to them under the guise of “we’re just really busy”. And Sasha had a doctor’s appointment.  
“Momma says I get too many ear infections,” She rolled her eyes and pouted. “But do I really have to get tubes put in? That sounds so… yucky!” Sasha wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue.  
Gavin understood perfectly and sympathized with her, but still felt a little hurt by the others’ rejections.  
When he told his mother the news, she sighed against her cigarette and said that it’d just have to be a birthday party with family.  
“Okay,” he agreed begrudgingly, trundling to his room to doodle on whatever papers he could find.  
The next bad thing to happen wasn’t extremely detrimental to his birthday party, but rather to his mood for the entire week. Elijah, being the ever curious child he was, decided to find out what would happen if crayons were to be microwaved. Specifically Gavin’s crayons, although there weren’t many other crayons in the house, and they were technically supposed to share.  
Elijah sat at the dining room table, poking inquisitively at the greyish waxy blob that gold, melon, sienna, cerulean, and parrot green had melted into. It was odd, very odd indeed, how soupy the mixture was. But it certainly was fascinating. More things could be done with this microwave, he thought, than just heating up leftovers and TV dinners. The wax, not quite hot but uncomfortably warm, dried on his fingers and he peeled it off, laughing to himself at the sensation. Yes, fascinating indeed.  
“‘Lijah, where are my crayons?” Gavin shouted from the top of the stairs, and Elijah pretended not to hear, kicking his heels against the chair. He poked the wax again. It was drying up now, into a filmy color-streaked grey mess.  
His brother thumped down the stairs, clearly annoyed at the lack of a response, and came to a dead halt when he saw the torn up crayon wrappers on the table and the mess on a plate Elijah had.  
“What did you do?!” He shrieked, running over and snatching the plate away from Elijah, who jumped up and tried to get it back.  
“Gavin, stop it! I just wanted to see what—”  
“They were mine! My crayons!” Gavin’s lip trembled dangerously, and Elijah shushed him.  
“Look, look, here, see?” Elijah ran with the plate over to the microwave and threw it in, punching in twenty seconds and hoping the wax would melt again. “Look, isn’t it cool? You can turn crayons into soup!”  
Gavin watched, anger melting into an anxious curiosity as he watched the plate spin slowly. A small bubble began to form in the middle of the grey mass, and it grew and grew until finally it burst with an audible pop! His eyes went wide as the soupy mess spattered across the inside of the microwave, and he let out a scream that had their mother racing to the kitchen.  
“What is it, what’s wrong?”  
“ELIJAH BLEW UP MY CRAYONS!”  
“No I didn’t, that was just—”  
“YES YOU DID!” Gavin cried. “YES YOU DID! YOU BURNED THEM AND THEY BLEW UP!”  
Mom sighed in exasperation and grabbed Gavin by the wrist, telling Elijah to stay in the kitchen, they would discuss this. She then guided her younger son back upstairs to his bedroom, the poor boy shrieking and sobbing the whole way.  
She set him down on the bed and bent down to his level. “Gavin.”  
His cries stemmed a little, but he shook his head, thumping his fists on the bedspread in anger.  
“Gavin, listen to me.”  
“No!” he said, but he listened anyway.  
“I know you really liked those crayons, but they were yours and Elijah’s to share, and—”  
“He ruined them!” Gavin flung himself face down on the bed, wailing into his pillow. “He ruins everything!”  
“Don’t talk about your brother like that.” Her voice was stern. He didn’t want to listen, but he did. “Now, I was going to wait until your birthday, but…” That got him to listen. Maybe she had gotten him new, better crayons! A big pack, just for him, with glitter colors and neons!  
“I think we’ll go out for ice cream after lunch, and then we can go to the park and feed the ducks. How does that sound?”  
It wasn’t what he was looking for, but an afternoon at the park did sound nice. Maybe he could convince her to leave Elijah home, or at the very least to not buy him ice cream.  
“Okay.” His voice was muffled by the pillow, but she heard him just fine.  
“Alright. We’ll eat at noon.”  
She closed the door to his room and never returned to the kitchen for Elijah.  
It seemed like a simple incident, but for the rest of the week, he was in a rotten mood and couldn’t be tempted out of it with even the finest ice cream cones and cutest ducklings at the pond.  
Then came the actual birthday party, which wasn’t really a party at all.  
Some relatives called to sing Happy Birthday to him. He supposed that was nice. Elijah was at a friend’s house for most of the day, and even though his absence was greatly appreciated, Gavin still felt kind of lonely. It was Saturday, though, which meant he got to eat Cheerios and watch cartoons. That part was fun. He and his mom did lots of things together that morning—washed dishes (the longer you wait, the more dishes pile up, his mother reminded him), watered the house plants and flower garden, sorted laundry, and finally, per Gavin’s request, sat down to draw.  
“Here’s your gift,” she said, handing him a little box wrapped in blue paper.  
Excitedly, he tore it open, and found a 24-pack of brand-new crayons inside. Classic colors. Very useful, very practical. Not exactly what he wanted—he had always loved the exotic colors—but still good, still wonderful!  
“Thank you, Momma!” He smiled and hugged her, and her laugh had him smiling for the rest of the time they sat and drew whatever came to mind. By the end of the hour, Gavin had drawn bold, colorful lines on twelve different pieces of paper. He decided he would keep them all.  
Then came lunch, which was cheese sandwiches and chips with homemade salsa and rhubarb bars for dessert. Gavin decided that he liked having his mom to himself, and silently wished Elijah would get more friends so he could be away more often.  
They went to the park, just him and his mom, and she pushed him on the swing set, watching with a gentle smile as he ran around on the jungle gym, determined to go down every slide at least ten times. Eventually they had to leave, though, because Christina had yet to bake a cake for him.  
And bake she did. Gavin got to sit on the countertop and watched closely as she made a chocolate cake from scratch. He helped her pour in the ingredients, like flour, sugar, and cocoa, and learned how to crack an egg. Once it was in the oven, she suggested they play a game of checkers, and the next hour or so was spent with Gavin squirming around impatiently while his mother carefully planned her move on the checkerboard. Boring, but he liked the attention from his mom, and he would’ve done anything to keep it.  
After a while, something started to smell funny, and his mom noticed it too.  
“Oh no,” She mouthed, and ran to the kitchen, where smoke was winding lazily out of the oven. Gavin watched from the doorway, petrified that the house was burning down and worried for his mom.  
She turned the dial to ‘OFF,’ snatched the fire extinguisher from below the sink, and reached for the handle on the oven door.  
“Ow, f—” And that was the first time Gavin heard his mother curse.  
Her hand was bright red now, and she dropped the fire extinguisher to hold the burn under cold water.  
Then the smoke detector went off, and scared the living daylights out of Gavin, so now there was a woman trying to kick the oven door open while her terrified child held on to her other leg and begged her not to let the house burn down, all while she nursed a welt on one hand and tried to work the fire extinguisher with the other.  
It was a mess, definitely, but they eventually got it figured out. She got the oven open with a shoe, put out the fire on the cake, opened all the windows so the kitchen would air out, salvaged her baking pan—but sadly, not the cake, which was burnt to a crisp—and brought Gavin to the store where they bought a new birthday cake and some oven mitts (greatly needed, his mother realized) for fifteen dollars and thirty seven cents.  
Needless to say, it was an eventful day.  
Then, in the late afternoon, Elijah came home with their father in tow. Since their parents were divorced—something neither brother really understood yet, but had a bit of a grasp on—Gavin and Elijah only got to see their dad on their respective birthdays and Christmas. He was a nice man, kind enough. Dark haired and light-eyed. Not genes that often went together, and yet, Gavin and Elijah had retained them. Gavin supposed his dad was rather handsome and aspired with a puffed-up chest to be like his old man someday, which was a good thing. His dad was fun and interesting and actually paid attention to him.  
Well, usually. Gavin thought his dad made a bad habit of talking about Elijah too much.  
Tonight was no different. They all went out for pizza, and Gavin had to sit through five completely different conversations relating to Elijah and how well he was doing in school, how much his teachers liked him, all that junk. But it was nice to walk between his mom and his dad and feel like he had a whole family again.  
Cake and present time passed in a candle-lighted blur, and as he curled up in bed with his new playthings, he only had one question on his mind, stemming from all the experiences he had had throughout the day. It began to occur to him that though it was his birthday, it seemed like he was invisible. Save for a few moments, his family didn’t seem to think he existed.  
“Momma?”  
“Yes, sweetie?”  
“Can you see me?” His big grey eyes peeked nervously out from under the fleece blankets on his bed.  
“Yes, darling.” Her laugh was musical. “Why?”  
“Do you love me?”  
Christina’s smile, in the moonlight, looked almost sad. “Of course I do, baby.”  
“More than ‘Lijah?” He pressed.  
“Now Gavin, you know I can’t love either of you more.”  
“Yes you can,” he chided, and she grinned at him.  
“Well, then...”  
“Who do you love more?”  
“...Elijah.”  
“What?!” He yelped, sitting upright in bed, completely forgetting he was supposed to be winding down for the night. “Why?”  
She laughed good naturedly. “I’m joking, sweetheart, I’m joking.”  
He laid down again, tucking his blankets in closer.  
“I love both of you the same, and you two get all my love.” She smiled and kissed the top of his head, leaving the room and closing the door behind her.  
Gavin couldn’t help but feel like maybe, maybe she was lying.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second in a set of significant memories.

Two  
🟔

Ah, fourth grade. The beginning of the two-digit age, where all sorts of possibilities opened up. Three years away from being a proper teenager, starting to act like one, but still being young enough to play outside and cross the street with Mom.  
The new school year was approaching quickly, and though Gavin was apprehensive about joining the fourth grade, he was sure this year was going to be the year for him. After all, he could finally go out for sports. No more watching from the sidelines! This year, he could be on the football team! Maybe all the practicing he had done over the years with his dad had paid off--he would be a star! He could hear the voices chanting in the stands now…   
These happy notions kept him going a lot of the time, because the school year had come with some rather unwelcome changes. Take Nathan, for example.  
Nathan, as his mother so kindly put it, was his new father. The only issue with this was that, well… Nathan was terrible at being a father. Sure, he was probably good at being a boyfriend. But he didn’t want to go outside and huck a ball around. He never wanted to garden, either. He most certainly didn’t want to “waste his valuable time” drawing, and by then, all of Gavin’s favorite activity options were exhausted.  
Nathan seemed to take to Elijah just fine, though. Both of them were rather introverted and liked libraries and science classes and “intellectual discussions” (Gavin hated those, because he always felt stupid trying to keep up with them and their weird words). Most importantly, they were both huge fans of robotics. It seemed like they just clicked that way. If ever there were to be a perfect father-and-son pair, it would be Nathan and Elijah, standing over a bench in the garage cluttered with wires and pieces of plastic, that familiar glint of curiosity in their eyes as they connected and pinched little copper strands, tucked in batteries, constructed plans for new creations. So often it felt as if Gavin weren’t part of the family. Mom had her perfect boyfriend, Elijah had his perfect father.  
It was just Gavin who was left out of the equation.  
Thoughts like these occupied his mind a lot of the time, but the smooth summer air and chirping cicadas usually kept him from feeling down about it. And besides: tryouts had opened for the school’s youth football team and he was even more eager than ever to be able to stay after with his friends, quite possibly to achieve the hopes of every sport-centered dream he’d ever conceived.  
The screen door slammed behind him as he ran, shoes still on, through the kitchen. Christina—Mom—was at the dining table.  
“Hey Ma?” He asked, and she looked up from the papers she was sorting through. Probably bills. She did that a lot, spent hours and hours poring over document after document. Bills were one of the few things Nathan couldn’t (or just didn’t) help her with.  
“Yes, Gavin?”  
“Can I try out for football? Please please pretty please with a cherry on top?” He didn’t like the wistful expression that was already wandering over her face. “I think I’ll make the team, I’m really good! And it doesn’t cost a whole lot, at least, not like other schools—only a hundred and fifty this year...” He was expecting a smile, a gentle smile of hers, and an “of course, sweetheart!” and maybe a hug or a careful rumpling of the hair, but the I’ve-got-bad-news look that she was wearing made his heart sink.  
“Gavin, I… Nathan and I were talking about that. We know you really hoped for it…”  
“And?” Gavin shifted from foot to foot nervously, praying to whatever entity listening that she would break into a smile any second and tell him they could have him play for the school team this year. That this was just a really, really out of season April Fool’s joke.  
“...and we, um, we decided that since Elijah wants to be on the robotics team…”  
“Momma, that costs so much more!” He whined pitifully, now more wishing than anything else that this was just some horrible, horrible joke. “It’s nearly four hundred dollars!”  
“Yes, but Nathan has agreed to pay for some of it, and I think that it would be a wonderful opportunity for them both. Think of it, Gavin, we could travel to see them compete! Wouldn’t that be fun?”  
He glared angrily in her direction and crossed his arms, thumping his foot against the linoleum flooring of the kitchen. “Going out for football is fun.”  
“Oh sweetie,” she sighed. “I just don’t have enough money, and I don’t think Nathan would appreciate picking you up from practice—”  
“Nathan can’t stand me!” Gavin shouted, startling his mother into silence. “He just can’t stand me! He only likes Elijah and I can’t do anything because of it! No football, no garden, no drawing! You say make an effort, do this, do that, he loves you, don’t worry, but you don’t understand! You don’t ask him to do something and feel funny when he makes that stupid pinched face and says ‘maybe later’, you don’t have to see him being all perfect with the rest of your family without you, you don’t have to give everything you like up just because your stupid step-father likes your brother more! I hate Nathan! I hate him!”  
Angry tears bubbled up in Gavin’s eyes as he looked to his mother for sympathy, but received none. Her eyes were cold, so cold that he barely recognized her.  
“Don’t you dare talk that way about your step father.”  
Just before her iron grip on his wrist led him, stumbling, to his room, he caught a glimpse of Nathan standing stiffly in the kitchen, making the exact pinched-up face Gavin had mentioned. It made Gavin feel sick.  
His mother dragged him into his room, and then told him,  
“You can come out when you learn to behave. No more screaming your head off. I bet Nathan feels rotten about what you just said.”  
Gavin managed a final “Good!” and she shut the door, leaving him to sob into his pillow and kick the wall a million times over.  
“Nobody loves me!” He cried. For hours, he yelled about how much he hated her and Nathan and Elijah. At some point his brother entered the room and tried desperately to console him, but got out as soon as Gavin started throwing things that weren’t pillows or blankets. Eventually, though, his voice was so raw and hoarse that he could only speak in a choking whisper.  
“What’s wrong with me?” Gavin wondered aloud in his raw voice after having been denied dinner and locked in his room.  
“What’s wrong with me?”


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third in a set of significant memories.

Three  
🟔

Up until this point, Elijah had pretty much been a shadow in Gavin’s life. He was always there, always at the center of every conversation or every parental decision, but had never really interacted with Gavin after the fourth grade. They didn’t talk to each other as siblings usually did. They didn’t even fight as much as normal siblings.  
Of course, Elijah was still behind most things that had a significant impact on Gavin’s life, like the football incident. Gavin supposed he never saw the issue as being his brother before. He always thought it was his mother’s fault, or Nathan’s. But as the years went on, he began to realize that most of these things happened because his brother existed, and a good percentage of those occurrences were bad, things that ate away at Gavin’s self worth and sanity.  
For example: when Elijah stole his girlfriend’s heart.  
Sasha and Gavin got along spectacularly. He was a little rough around the edges, but he was gentle and sweet to her, which she liked. And she was so angelic to him, even with her fragile skin, that he couldn’t help but love her. She had him wrapped around her finger, but didn’t know it. Sasha had a much shallower interest in him, but still believed it to be love--and oh, what a downfall that would be.  
Gavin was right to be reluctant to have her around the house during Christmas break (although he couldn’t have known that), and truth be told he fell apart inside when she put her hand over his and reassured him with that sweet smile of hers.  
“Your family can’t be that bad,” she had said. “I mean, my uncle still gets drunk and relives his Vegas escapades out loud every Christmas eve. There’s not much worse than hearing a fifty-year-old man talk about all the hookers he used to swing around with while his wife sits there in silent agony.”  
They shared a laugh at that.  
“I’ve met your mom, and she’s nice! I bet Nathan and Elijah are too.”  
“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He had laughed with nothing in mind except that she might think the rest of his family were prestigious assholes, which--to Gavin, at least--they were. Nathan and Elijah were closer than ever, especially since Nathan was helping him pay for his first few semesters at the University of Colbridge, whereas Gavin was stuck in 10th grade at a public school. And he hated that more than his consciousness would let on. Elijah was always better in some way. Whether it was because he excelled in the math and science scene or because he was a quieter, more gently persuasive person, Gavin didn’t know. But having him home again was going to suck immensely.  
This Christmas, the trouble with his family and his girlfriend wasn’t that they were horrible to her--it was that they were simply too good. Sasha fell in love with his mother’s cooking, which he didn’t mind. Gavin and his mom were actually on good terms for the moment. Sasha also found Nathan intriguing and liked to chat with him, which was only annoying, since he didn’t particularly like it when Nathan talked for hours on end--but again, it wasn’t the worst thing to ever happen.  
But then, of course, Elijah came to the front room to see who was visiting, and from the moment she laid her pretty gold eyes on him Gavin knew he had lost.  
It was the little things: the way she held Elijah in a hug when she greeted him, just a few seconds longer than was comfortable for either brother. How she laughed when he told one of his dreadfully complicated jokes. The little smiles she gave to him when she thought Gavin wasn’t looking.  
It hurt, but he was going to pretend it was fine, like he did with most things. It was okay. It was okay. It was okay. Wasn’t it?  
Well, it was, until she took it one step too far. When the family was cleaning up and their parents were settling down for bed, and when the clock chimed eleven, she was on her way out after having kissed Gavin goodbye. His cheek still burned where her lipstick had rubbed off on it, and he stood quietly in the parlor doorway watching her go.  
His brother happened to exit the study at that moment, though. As if it were in a movie, Gavin watched as they awkwardly bumped into each other. Like the gentlemanly scholar he was, Elijah apologized profusely.  
“It’s alright.” Gavin didn’t like that voice, didn’t like that smile. Sasha’s catlike eyes glittered in the dim light. “I was just on my way out. I’ve said goodbye to everyone but you, actually.”  
“Oh, well, that’s—” And suddenly, he was cut off mid-sentence by Sasha’s gold-streaked lips. Elijah’s back hit the wall as she made her advances--but not for long. Gavin saw red and before he knew it he had her by the shoulder. Ignoring her pained cries- “Ow! Ow, Gavin, Jesus, you’re hurting me-!” -he ripped her away from Elijah and began to yell vicious, hateful things at her, dragging her to the front door and throwing her out into the snow with a final “and don’t come back, you slut!”  
The pain he felt in his chest made his eyes water. Who was he to trust someone like her? He should have seen it coming. He really should have seen it coming. Even after all this time, nobody could really loved him. It was always his brother, in the end, who got their attention, who earned it and kept it and left him struggling, wheezing, in the dust.  
Heartbreak flooded Gavin’s mind. He couldn’t think of anything but her. All the times she said she loved him… lies. All the times she held his hand… sickening.  
“Gavin, I’m so sorry, I didn’t— what in God’s name— why did she…?” Elijah was at a loss for words, completely breathless and shaken by the encounter. Gavin’s blood boiled at the traces of shimmering lipstick on his brother’s face.  
“Don’t you fucking start with me.” He growled, painfully aware of his mother standing in the kitchen with Nathan behind her, eyes wide and frightened.  
“She—she just—it wasn’t my fault, Gavin—”  
“Yeah?” He could practically feel steam pouring from his ears. “Then why the fuck didn’t you stop her? Why didn’t you throw her off? Why did you close your eyes? Why did you let it happen?!”  
Elijah had no good answer for that, but it wasn’t as if Gavin was going to stick around to hear one anyway. He stomped upstairs and threw his bedroom door closed behind him, clawing at his face where he could still feel her goodbye kiss, chest aching for her saccharine ministrations, mind playing back what had happened, damning her for how she made him hurt, bitter at her and Elijah, wrestling with insult and betrayal forever and ever into the night.  
So began the hatred of his brother.


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fourth in a set of significant stories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: In this chapter, mental instability, self-harm, and a suicide attempt are all described in graphic detail. If that could trigger you at all, please do the right thing and skip this chapter! All you need to know from here on out is that Gavin meets Tina and changes his last name from Kamski to Reed. Take care, lovelies!

Four  
🟔

It wasn’t long before high school ended--really, just another four miserable years of trying desperately not to be known as “Elijah Kamski’s brother”. After a meagre graduation and subsequent celebration of leaving home for the final time, Gavin moved into an apartment with one of his good friends, Tina Chen. Tina was a sprightly young woman who had met him in eleventh grade--more specifically, when he made fun of her and she punched him. It wasn’t long until a strange friendship took hold. Gavin thought she was pretty tough for a girl, and in the months they’d spent together she actually made a good impact on him, got him to care a little more and redeemed his faith in girls and women. Though they would never get into a serious relationship, they almost played at it at times, taking care of each other like an old married couple would: with plenty of love and appreciation and sarcasm.  
Tina, who had lived with just her mom for a good majority of her life, thought it was interesting how alone Gavin felt even with a sibling. She’d always been alone because, well, she quite literally was. There were no sisters to play dress up, or brothers to roughhouse with. Not even the neighborhood kids wanted to play with her. They were either too old or too young. But Gavin--he was alone because the competition was too strong. Elijah always won over what friends he could have had, and even (as we saw before) what girlfriends he might have married one day. It hurt him even more to know that Elijah was planned and that he was not. He was the result of a medical condition, an accidental ovulation while his mother was pregnant--all of which he found out when reading through his personal records. The unbelonging and the loneliness was, for the most part, what they bonded most closely over, the runners-up being Asian cuisine and alternative music.  
Tina was also convinced she was going to make it big in the Detroit Police Department. She got Gavin into criminology, psychology and law enforcement, and so together they decided that they were going into one of Michigan’s police academies after graduating college. Gavin found it nice that he had someone to share something like that with. He wouldn’t express it, of course. He couldn’t. He’d put up too much of a cold, sarcastic front to break it and show gratitude for something that simple. He had erased giving thanks from his nature. Almost.  
Sometimes a drink or two could loosen his lips enough that he would end up crushing Tina in a bear hug, telling her over and over, “you’re a goddamn guardian angel is what you are” and “thank you, thank you so fucking much, Tina, thank you”.  
In this particular instance, Gavin was an unstable twenty-something year old (he couldn’t be bothered to remember. Tina never forgot, though, which was nice) trying to make his way through college with a job at the nearest 24/7 gas station. It was a crummy job, to be sure, but between the few hours of sleep and lectures and all the time spent reading comics in the early morning behind the register, he was reasonably okay. For once, Gavin was finally out of his brother’s shadow. He still had the internal yearning, the need to amount to something, of course (because everyone does), but he didn’t have to match everything Elijah did, he didn’t have to try and fail where Elijah did and succeeded. In fact, as far as Gavin was concerned, he never had to talk to his family again.  
This was a truly delightful thought, worth pondering in the small hours of the morning. He was behind the counter at the gas station, completely bored out of his mind, having just finished reading his Spider-Man comics for the umpteenth time. Complacency and fate led his hand to the remote, and so he flipped on the television. What should he behold on the small, fuzzy screen but his brother’s face, blue-eyed and smiling like an idiot and—  
And CEO of CyberLife, creating androids, and holy fuck, Gavin wanted to jump out the window. The television screen blurred, his head fell on the desk.  
“Thought I escaped this,” Gavin mumbled into the cold metal.  
The television blared on. Some cake-faced reporter was interviewing Elijah. The rest of his shift at the station was spent gazing mindlessly at the screen, feeling dead and weighted and hopeless. His brother, the one that had constantly overshadowed him, had just made two discoveries that were life and world-changing. He was creating things like a god.  
And where was he?  
In a gas station at three in the morning, watching his sanity crumble and the last of his will to live fly away beneath the LED lights as Elijah made it known without even trying that he was still the better person. He was more intelligent, more brilliant, more focused, more kind, more innovative, more gifted—  
The next three hours passed in a haze, and Gavin felt himself going through the motions to get himself home, but couldn’t for the life of him erase the haunting image of his brother’s bright and smiling face, telling him quietly that he’d never amount to anything. He was still in that haze when he opened the door to the apartment, tossed his keys on the counter and retreated to his bedroom, passing a concerned-looking Tina on the way. Though she felt something was off about him, no words were exchanged, and he silently thanked her for that.  
Vile, horrible, self-deprecating thoughts flooded his mind as he locked himself in his room, and from there he spent another two hours shaking and tugging furiously at his hair. The night--or morning, really--was long and drudgy and tearful. Through all the rooms and boxes and closed off spaces in his head he looked, but he could not find an ounce, a drop, a sliver of a will to live.  
And then the sun rose, peeking its blinding blonde head over the horizon. It was time to get ready for his nine-thirty lecture.  
The next few days were clouded with the idea that he, Gavin, would never amount to anything besides being Elijah Kamski’s little brother. In fact, that was all he’d ever be known for. No great accomplishments for him. Elijah was well on his way to being an international icon, while here he was, in a dingy apartment with someone he suddenly felt he barely knew and a life he didn’t think was worth anything anymore. The cigarette lighter didn’t do it justice. Neither did the razor. Nothing could bring him out of the haze. He was left alone, panicking, dying piece by piece and bit by bit, hating himself for something that was just so out of his control.  
Tina continued to worry—anything she said to Gavin went in one ear and out the other, and she was afraid to ask about the bloodstains on the bedsheets and several of Gavin’s shirts. One night, around seven o’clock, she came home to Gavin sitting in the living room, staring blankly at the television that wasn’t even on.  
“Gav?” Tina spoke hesitantly.  
“I’ll never be enough…” came Gavin’s voice, quiet and broken as he rocked back and forth, back and forth. Tina came closer, carefully inching around the corner of the sectional sofa. Gavin was crying and talking to himself in a sing-songy voice, which was already disturbing, but even more so was the near-empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s and the orange plastic pill container clutched in his right fist.  
“Gavin, what the fuck?!” Tina reached forward and snatched both bottles away, scanning the pill container briefly to find out what her friend had taken.  
It was a new bottle, had just been broken open. Lormetazepam, one milligram per pill.  
“Gavin.” She took her friend’s shoulders and tried to make eye contact with him. “Gavin, how many of these have you taken?”  
“Nine,” Gavin murmured, head falling forward a little. “I don’t feel very good, Tina, I don’t…”  
If Tina wasn’t freaked out before, she sure was now. As Gavin babbled on incoherently, she called for an ambulance, told dispatch as much as she could with a shaking voice, was reassured multiple times, and then was met with the sound of pills shaking out of plastic. She dropped the phone and ran back to Gavin, who had five, six, seven pills in his mouth and was trying to swallow them with a last sip of whiskey.  
Tina yanked the bottle away and threw the glass somewhere behind her. It shattered noisily, but where she normally would have winced at the sound, she was holding Gavin’s jaw and fighting to get the blue-tipped sleeping pills out of his mouth.  
“Spit ‘em out, come on,” She commanded, scraping two or three off of Gavin’s tongue.  
More tears, but Gavin complied, spitting blue and grey into Tina’s hand and fighting to get his jaw out of his roommate’s iron grip.  
Tina ran back to the phone, lormetazepam bottle in hand, shaking the half-dissolved pills into the sink.  
“Ma’am? Are you still there?”  
“Yes,” She gasped into the receiver. “Please tell me the ambulance is on the way, please, God—”  
“It should be a few streets away. Can you get your friend down to the lobby?”  
“Y-yeah, I think I can. Should I stay on the line?”  
“It isn’t absolutely necessary, but you may.”  
“Okay.”  
So it was that Tina carried a half-conscious Gavin down to where the EMTs were waiting, sat with him as they drove to the hospital, and subjected herself to several anxiety attacks as she waited impatiently to hear how her friend was doing in the ICU.  
Eventually, she knew Gavin was going to be alright, but the doctor very strongly suggested that she go home and get some sleep for her own health. He promised Gavin would still be there in the morning.  
Tina nodded, and said she would be back first thing.

🟔

His head hurt.  
That was the only thing Gavin knew for sure right now. He might’ve gotten a bit drunk, might’ve tried to kill himself with his sleeping pills, might’ve been taken to the hospital. But none of that was true, so long as he kept his eyes shut. If he didn’t know for sure, there was still a chance he could wake up in his bed in the apartment, alarm clock chirping like it always did. The only thing he knew right now, though, was that his head hurt.  
And God, did it.  
“Gavin, are you awake?”  
Tina. Worried. Not good.  
“Maybe.” Holy hell, his throat was raw. What happened?  
“Here. The nurse said I could give you this.”  
The nurse. That hit Gavin like a brick. Despite this, though, he cracked an eyelid to accept the glass of water Tina was holding out to him.  
“Don’t drink too fast.”  
“Didn’t plan on it.” He coughed loudly, and winced at the pain, gladly taking a sip of the cool liquid.  
There was a moment of silence between them. Gavin kept sipping lightly at the water, not sure what to say.  
“You remember what happened?” Tina asked.  
Gavin laughed a harsh, grating chuckle. “Wish I didn’t.”  
Another uncomfortable silence.  
“Do...do you want to tell me something? Anything?”  
Gavin despised how heartbroken his roommate sounded and couldn’t look her in the eye if he tried.  
“Nope, not really.”  
“Please,” Tina took hold of Gavin’s hand and pressed it to her forehead. “Please talk to me. I don’t want you to leave.”  
“You’re a big old sap, I knew it,” Gavin willed himself not to cry. “I just, I…”  
For the next hour or so, Tina listened to Gavin describing how low he felt because of his brother.  
“He’s… he’s the epitome of success. He’s everything I was meant to be but just couldn’t. And it didn’t fucking help that both my parents and my step father clearly loved him more. God, it goes back so far,” Gavin groaned, leaning back into the pillows. “All the goddamn time, all I hear about is how great Elijah Kamski is. It’s exhausting. It smothers you.” He looked at Tina, eyes dull and dejected. “Makes you want to die.”  
There were no words that could comfort him. At least, that’s what Tina thought, until an idea happened upon her.  
“Elijah Kamski,” She mused. “It’s the family that’s the issue, right?”  
“Yeah.” Gavin laid back and closed his eyes, fearful that his tears would fall. “Don’t think the family can be fixed, though. There’s no way in hell you could make me go to therapy with them.”  
“No, no, I wouldn’t do that. But...what if you changed your name?”  
Now she had Gavin’s attention. “What?”  
“Well, you could keep Gavin. I think that’s just fine. But you could go to court and change your surname. You know--you’d be a whole new person… and you could be your own family. Hell, I’d vouch for you.” Tina patted the back of her friend’s hand.  
“That…” Gavin frowned, thinking it through. “That… doesn’t seem so bad. I mean, I have no clue what I would change it to. And I don’t know how much it would help.”  
“Think of it this way—new name, new person, new life. A chance to start over.”  
“You really think so?”  
“Yeah, I do.”  
“Well… uh… you got your phone with you?”  
“Always.”  
“Should’ve figured.” Gavin laughed weakly. “See if you can find some surnames that go well with Gavin.”  
“Sure thing.” Tina took a moment to complete a Google search. “How do these sound?”  
She then proceeded to read off a list of thirty or so names. Gavin gave reactions to each—either a disgusted face, languid, uncaring blink, or small nod.  
“Got a favorite out of those, or should I look for more?”  
Gavin thought for a minute. “...I think ‘Reed’ has a nice ring to it.”  
“Gavin Reed.” Tina said, and nodded with a smile. “It does sound nice, doesn’t it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, let me know if there's something I can do better, or if you spot any errors. <3


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fifth in a set of significant memories.

Five  
🟔

That was all a very, very long time ago, when Gavin could have turned his life around and been a completely sweet-hearted, nice person. It could have been a fresh start. It could have been a rebirth of sorts, a reopening of the eyes, a crying of the dove into the morning light, something that comes only after you ride off into the sunset and subsequent dark of night.  
But fate is not always so kind, you see.  
Though Gavin managed to legally change his name with Tina’s gracious help, he knew that he was somehow, on a base level, still the same person. Even if he could sever ties with his ridiculously dramatic and cruel family, it was in his nature to be a rough, shove-off kind of person. Tina could see through that, but how many others could? Not enough. And with that, he saw Elijah Kamski practically every time he turned on the television. Always talking about the future, it seemed, along with the latest advancements in technology. Intellectual discussion, like the hour long conversations he used to have with Nathan. It didn’t feel any different there. And his creations, the androids—they roamed the streets, godless and soulless bodies of metal and plastic. It made Gavin a little bit paranoid. What could be going on inside their prosthetic heads behind those cold, dead eyes? Could they be plotting silently with each other, soon to bring about the end of the world? Most certainly. But would they actually? Gavin figured the human race would find out sooner rather than later.  
Following college, police academy had been—so nicely phrased by Tina—“a real bitch”, but he graduated alongside her and for a while, he was in a good place. He wasn’t happy, because he convinced himself that happiness was fleeting and momentary, but he was alright. For the first time in what seemed like his entire life, he managed to crack a genuine smile every day. His friendship with Tina grew ever stronger, and he actually made a new friend called Chris, a young man who was still in college and who also had dreams of being an officer of the law. Since everything had been going his way for a while, Gavin even went out with some ladies he knew, but those relationships never really developed. No matter, though. Mostly he just stuck by Tina and Chris—and then, there was Hank.  
Hank Anderson, the one all his superiors and professors and life coaches had talked about, the man who’d been promoted to the rank of lieutenant at the age of forty-four, which made him the youngest lieutenant in Detroit history… he could go on forever. Gavin had quite the obsession with him. It was better than focusing on Elijah, at least—this man had built himself up from the dust, and was living proof that ordinary people like Gavin could work hard, be successful, and reap the benefits while staying in the public eye. What beautiful dreams! Such high hopes for a rookie, he knew, but Gavin still woke up pledging his life to Hank, practicing to be like Hank, imagining himself being taken under Hank’s wing—and maybe this was just the need to have some sort of functioning parental figure, but—still. Hank Anderson was, as far as Gavin was convinced, a god in-the-flesh.  
They say ‘never meet your idols, you’ll be disappointed’, but Gavin didn’t see how the man could possibly disappoint him. Often he dreamed about the day he would finally get to meet Lieutenant Anderson, and get to work with him on a case. The thought filled him with more happiness than he knew how to express, and so it was even more of a disastrous let-down to see that this glorious figure Hank Anderson had once been was now a grizzled old man with a drinking problem and suicidal tendencies.  
To be honest, that shit hurt.  
So instead of accepting the comfort Tina offered, Gavin turned to spite, and became as mean and insensitive as his place in the department allowed. The wishes he had of being an important asset to the DPD weren’t thrown away entirely—rather, he worked in spite now, sure he could be a better person than his old idol. Determined to be better, to be the best. But it was just another negative motivation. To quote Pink Floyd, who put it perfectly—“another brick in the wall”.  
Months passed before he considered this. It didn’t hurt as much anymore, he noticed, when he saw Elijah. His brother, too, had lost all bright color, his blue eyes gleaming like ice instead of sapphires. Somehow this unsettling appearance made him feel at least a little bit better, like he wasn’t the only standoffish one, he wasn’t the only one that repelled people with a single look—and yet again, it was another thing that kept him tied to his brother. But it didn’t hurt. It didn’t hurt when he saw Hank walking into the precinct, either. It didn’t hurt at all—or so he convinced himself.  
Maybe he felt a twinge of pain when Tina moved out of their shared apartment, got a house, and married her girlfriend, because now he lived alone and felt it. Maybe watching people stream past him on their way to work made him long for something else, some bright new beginning on the other side of the planet. Maybe the ever-grey skies with pouring rain nearly every night made him wish the sun would come out again so he could warm his skin and crack a smile like before. But he wasn’t going to admit it, he never would, not even on his deathbed.  
But this was life in Detroit—you were either made to live in spite, or the despair of the world swallowed you whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's where it ends. Well, for now--that was where I originally ended it, but if anyone has any more ideas they'd like me to write for this one, I'll definitely take them into consideration!  
> As always, let me know what you think. I love you, stay safe, I hope you enjoyed, and have a wonderful day!  
> <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed! What can I fix?? Any noticeable character flaws? Anything weird standing out to you? Grammar mistakes caught your eye? Let me know, because I am dead tired of reading the same chapter over and over, so I might not catch the errors. Love you all! Have a nice day :)


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